Death of a Heart
by cactuskim
Summary: “To the end of his days he would never know what had put the first twist in his brother’s soul.” This line inspired my story about a young Thranduil, his OC brother Doriflen, and Orophir set late 1st age. See Ch1 for full summary. Legolas appears at end.
1. Chapter 1

Summary

Summary

This is a back story to Cassia and Siobhan's Mellon Chronicles. I strongly recommend that you read both Tears Like Rain and Betrayal by Cassia and Siobhan, the two stories that most heavily influenced this story. Doriflen is an original character created by them, and I would like to thank them for loaning him to me.

If you have not read these stories, and would like to give this a try first, it should be possible with just a little background information: Suffice it to say that Doriflen is the older brother of Thranduil. He has been hot tempered and volatile from his youth. Despite these flaws in his personality, at the beginnings of this story he is still "…A good and protective older brother" (TLR), to Thranduil, with whom he is close. This is the story of what happened to them, and how these events and their father shaped both of their personalities.

Setting

This story is set near the end of the first age just a few years after the ruin of Dorath in Ossiriand, the land of the seven rivers. If you would like to know the reason that I have chosen this setting, see my appendix at the end of the story.

The age of the Characters

For the purposes of this story, Doriflen is at an Elven age that is physically equivalent to a human of 15 years of age, and Thranduil has the physical maturity consistent with a human of about 10 years of age. If you would like to know how this translates into equivalent Elven ages, see my section on this matter at the end of the appendices. (Beware: I am an elf girl!)

Rating: Strong PG 13/T+ for Violence.

Most but not all of it is only alluded to, rather than seen.

Wonderful Beta by Raina Hyper-elf.

Translations

_Mellon-nín; My friend, Muindor-nín; My brother, Hir-nín; My Lord,_

_Hannon-le; Thank you, __Ion-nín; My son; Saés; Please_

_Daro; Stop Adar & Ada: Father (formal and informal)_

_Lasto beth-nín; Listen to me_

"…**To the end of his days he would never know what had put the first twist in his brother's soul."**

**Tears Like Rain by Cassia and Siobhan**

Death of a Heart

_Chapter One_

The stars were fading as the eastern horizon blushed gently with the coming dawn. He wondered what it had been like before the coming of the sun and the moon when Arda had rested under the constant starlit twilight. Had the stars been brighter then? Had their ephemeral beauty somehow been dimmed by their more flamboyant and brilliant cousins, or did they still possess the same fire and wonder as when they ruled supreme. Watching them pale in the brightening sky he was struck by a slight feeling of loss… Was it wrong to mourn their passing when the cause was something as beautiful as the rising sun? It was only temporary; they would be back when this wondrous gift of the Valar settled once more below the horizon. So why did he find himself wishing that they could stay?

He rose from his bed in the high talan shaking his head ruefully. It was thoughts like this that caused his father to sigh and regard him with that slightly disapproving look in his eyes. He knew what his father would say if he knew of these musings; '_The stars, sun and the moon were gifts to be enjoyed for the beauty that they brought into the world, but not something over which to become so emotionally stirred up about_'.

He tried to control these feelings and others that his father was always warning him about. '_If you open your heart to every feeling the world will tear you apart_' the elderly elf would admonish him when he would see that look in his youngest son's eyes. Perhaps he was right, but it was so difficult to always hide what was in his heart. At least with his brother, he did not have to pretend. With that thought Thranduil turned to see if his brother had awakened yet.

They shared this part of the talan, and had since they had come to Ossiriand after first the Naugrim and then the sons of Fëanor had lain waste their home in Doriath just a few years before. Thranduil knew that his older brother would probably have preferred to have had more privacy, but it was comforting to have him so close at night when his feelings of loss and despair about their mother were strongest. He peaked around the intricately woven tapestry that partitioned their sleeping area, observing with delight his brother's slumbering form.

Doriflen was sprawled across his low bed on his stomach one arm pinned underneath him, and the other flung out draping over the edge, his fingers just barely brushing the plush rug below. His face was half buried in the pillow with only one eye barely visible thru his tangle of dark ruddy gold hair. Thranduil watched carefully as he crept silently forward for any focusing of his brother's vacant gaze that would indicate that he was actually awake. It was not easy to surprise Doriflen, and some would say that it was not wise. Thranduil however, did not fear his brother's volatile and hot temper; it never burned him, only others.

With a wicked smile he dipped his fingers into the pitcher on the bedside table and carefully dripped a few drops into his unsuspecting sibling's ear. When Doriflen jerked partially awake at the unpleasant sensation Thranduil roared out his best war cry and pounced on him.

Startled and confused by the sudden assault, Dorilfen cried out in anger and whipped around tumbling both boys off of the bed and tangling them up in the bedding together. He quickly pinned his attacker and found himself glaring fiercely down into the laughing face of his brother. "Thranduil?!" If this had been anyone else things might have turned ugly. Instead he eased his painfully tight grip on his brother's arms. "What were you thinking!" he growled in annoyance finally releasing him completely.

Thranduil just lay there still laughing, his pale golden hair spread out like a halo framing his less than angelic expression. "I was thinking that it was time for you to get up. You promised to take me swimming today and it's getting late!" he claimed, ignoring the fact that the shadows still lay deep in the forest despite the brightening eastern horizon. His mischievous eyes danced with delight despite the slowly diminishing storm that raged in his brother's icy blue eyes.

Doriflen sat back still straddling the younger elf. He never could stay angry with the little brat for long, he thought as his affection for his brother fought through to the surface finally submerging the last flames of his anger; but he could get even! Grabbing the pitcher of water off of his table he kept Thranduil from rolling away as he quickly doused him, soaking his hair and light sleeping tunic. "You wanted to swim _Muindor-nín," _He chuckled as he watched him sputter and squirm. "so swim!" He snickered and jumped up finally releasing the younger elf who scrambled up shaking water from his hair, and quickly peeling off his tunic.

Thranduil looked up at his brother with a puckish grin and started to twist the wet garment up swinging it in a threatening way; this was not over yet.

Doriflen backed cautiously away, but there really was no where to go; so with a ringing cry, he decided to go for a fast, but soggy victory, charging and tackling his brother despite his makeshift weapon. They rolled across the floor a couple of times knocking over a chair and the small reading table next to it, and scattering the books on top of it before Doriflen once again pinned him. He wrestled the dripping shirt away from him and tossed it out the nearby window. This time the glare that he fixed the younger elf with was un-shadowed by his previous anger and only showed his amusement. "Are you going to behave, or are you going to keep acting like you are part Orc?" he queried. "If it is the latter, you shall be joining your tunic." He threatened without any real malice.

"If I'm part Orc than so are you." Thranduil snickered, still not willing to yield.

Doriflen shook his head. The young rascal never backed down! "Enough now!" He warned, his mood suddenly shifting. "The room is wrecked and your antics have probably woken father." He saw the way his brother instantly sobered at that last thought and released him.

He watched in fascination as the younger elf scrambled to right the tipped over furniture and pick up the scattered books. Thranduil was always so eager to please their father and so concerned about incurring his displeasure. He, on the other hand, didn't care nearly as much what his father thought; he tried to avoid triggering his anger and being punished of course, but his father's approval mattered little to him. He found his father's frequent lectures about self control tedious and annoying. What was wrong with showing people that you were angry? If someone upset him badly, they learned quickly enough to not to make that mistake again.

He climbed up and walked over to his bed picking up the bedding from the floor. He grimaced, it was soaked! He felt his temper flare instantly only to have it abate just as quickly when Thranduil grinned up at him. Since their mother had been killed his brother was the only person left that he cared strongly about anymore. The young elf may be annoying at times, pestering him while following him everywhere and refusing to be left behind, but for some reason it didn't bother him most of the time. His friends didn't like it but they knew better than to cross him where his brother was concerned.

He cocked his head as he heard the sounds of breakfast being prepared below; the days always started early in the house of Oropher. He tossed the bedding into the basket in the corner while turning to his brother. "That's good enough." He grinned. "Race you downstairs for breakfast!" he laughed as they both bolted for the door.

The pale tendrils of dawn had not yet pierced the deep shadows beneath the great trees, nor had they touched the gloom wrapped around the heart of the lone figure beneath them.

He gazed up at the fading stars and found no comfort in their beauty. Somehow they had ceased to touch his heart when the one he had loved so deeply had passed beyond his reach. He had tried to wall away the feelings of loss and grief and most of the time he was successful. He could not change the past. Wallowing in these feelings did no one any good. He shook his head ruefully; he should have the strength to shut these painful emotions away into the past to which they belonged…. but when he looked up into a clear moonless night at the luminous blanket above he was forced to acknowledge the empty spot that had once been filled by his gentle Elenedis when they had walked together in the endless starlight before the coming of the Sun.

He turned with a sigh towards the talan that was now home to him and his two young sons… He missed her. That was the price that one paid for opening their heart and the price was very high.

His brow furrowed in anger as he thought of the senseless death and destruction that had destroyed their home and taken her away from him. Oropher had chosen to bring his children to Ossiriand for refuge after the devastation of the second kinslaying, because he could no longer bring himself to accept the rule of those who would associate with the treacherous Noldor still within their midst.

He had heard all of the arguments; that it was only the sons of Fëanor and their followers that were at fault, but if the others were so innocent then why were they all under the Ban of the Valar and how did word of Dior's possession of a Silmaril come to be known out side of Doriath? His people knew the bloody history of the gem and the terrible oath that pursued it. They understood well the danger inherent in that knowledge. He shook his head in frustration. They should never have trusted any of the Noldor. They had been betrayed and paid the price, but never again.

The green elves knew the value of keeping to themselves and shunning the other races as well as the Noldor. Their simple way of life appealed to him despite his past privileges as a Sindarin lord and his youngest was thriving on it. Doriflen was less pleased with their situation than his brother, but Oropher knew that he would come to appreciate it in time.

His brows knit as he considered his sons. Doriflen; he worried about both his boys but especially him. He was talented, clever, intelligent and charismatic… unfortunately he was also unpredictable. Both boys had a temper but, where Thranduil's would burn hot but dissipate rapidly. Doriflen's seemed to always be burning beneath the surface, bursting forth at the worst times. In many ways it was in this area that he missed his wife the most. She had always been able to curb Doriflen's volatile nature and help still the storms of his soul.

His head snapped up as a sudden sound from above interrupted his musings. The high piercing war cry of his youngest brought a wry quirk to his lips. Another day was beginning. He cocked his head slightly listening to the sounds of the frolicking boys as he walked towards the base of the talan and smiled, they had started early today he thought in amusement.

He had almost reached the first steps when instinct caused him to shy and jump back just avoiding the sodden mass that descended towards him splattering his deep auburn tresses and tunic. He looked at the dripping sleeping tunic that was now hanging from a small branch just inches from where he was standing his eyebrows rising high on his forehead. That was interesting! He chuckled as he entered to the sounds of laughter and breakfast preparations…Should he even ask?

"Out! Both of you, you have been raised better than this!" Ansa stood with one hand on her hip and the other one shaking a large wooden spoon while looking up the stairs leading to the upper sleeping areas. "Do not come down until you are properly dressed!" she called after the retreating laughter. She spun around quickly as she heard Oropher enter from out side, the spoon still raised threateningly only to drop it quickly to her side and bow her head slightly in acknowledgment of the master of the house's entrance hiding a slight blush. "Good morning _Hir-nín_." She breathlessly intoned.

Oropher quickly took in the sight of the flustered servant and the partially spilled bowl of warm rolls on the table. She had attended his wife since Elenedis had been born and had insisted on staying with the family to see to the boys after his wife's untimely death. Though generally the most patient of beings, even she could occasionally be pushed too far by his rambunctious offspring. "Good? It sounded more like you were chasing off a pack of wolves." He picked up one of the stray rolls fixing her with a slightly bemused look. "What did they do this time?"

Ansa brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and sighed. "Those two young lions that you are raising came racing in here raiding the breakfast table before I had even had a chance to finish laying things out and they were still in their night clothes… Or at least Doriflen was, your youngest had no tunic at all and was dripping wet!" Her lips quirked in a smile as she remembered the sight then she looked pointedly at the roll in Oropher's hand causing him to quickly replace it in the bowl. "'Tis hardly behavior becoming of a young Sindarin lord." She said as she started to lay out the rest of the meal. The merriment in her eyes belied the words even before they were spoken.

His green eyes sparkled with contained mirth. "The tunic is outside… drying" and then sobered and hardened some as he continued. "I shall of course speak with them about proper decorum."

Ansa recognized the change in the elf lord's eyes. She loved this family and she knew that Oropher cared deeply for his boys, but he never seemed to be able to balance strict discipline with any sort of expression of warmth and affection anymore. When Elenedis had been alive he had been a bit more open and of course the boys had been able to turn to their mother. Since her death the boys had had to depend on each other as their father shut himself away behind his cold wall of pain. Placing the last of the dishes on the table she turned to him."'Twas just high spirits really. They are young and forget themselves sometimes that is all." She hesitated, he never took advice about his children well, but she had to try. "It isn't really necessary to say anything…"

"I will determine what is necessary or not where my children are concerned." He firmly stated then softened somewhat as he noted the genuine concern in her eyes. "I understand that they are young, but these are difficult and dangerous times. Lack of discipline can be dangerous and if they show no self restraint at home, how can I expect them to remember it later when it may be critical?" He realized that they were still children, but they no longer had the luxury of time. The Girdle of Melian had been broken and their homes destroyed. His children would have to face many hard and difficult decisions in life and he feared that that time may come sooner than many thought. As amusing as some of their antics might be, they would have to grow up quickly if they were to survive. He could not afford to be weak and give in to his heart where they were concerned. He shook his head sadly and looked at Ansa. "I shall speak with them; it is for their own good." Then gently added, "I will not forget that they are still children."

Ansa gazed sadly at him realizing that it would do no good to argue the point any further. She looked up as she heard soft steps descending from above once again and looked at Oropher questioningly. "Would you like me to leave so you can speak with them now?"

"No Ansa, it can wait until later…It was after all a minor thing." He conceded. "No point letting breakfast get cold." It would be better to talk to them when his mood was not so dark anyway. He turned at the sound of hushed voices.

"…you go first!"

"No little brother, after you… Ansa may still have that big spoon!" Doriflen could be heard laughing as Thranduil suddenly slid into view through the archway as if he had been shoved… which in fact he had.

He froze in the threshold when he spotted his father, the grin on his face faltering slightly with surprise. "Adar…good morning." he finished as cheerfully as he could. He wondered how much his father knew about their morning antics… enough by the look on his face. He glanced over his shoulder at Doriflen as he entered behind him looking for reassurance.

Oropher watched as his oldest nonchalantly strode into the room, his hand lightly resting on his younger brother's slender shoulder as he fixed his father with a look, his eyes cool and reserved. Oropher sighed inwardly, it was a look he knew only to well, it was indicative of the distance that had developed between them since his wife's death.

"Good morning Adar, you are up early today." Doriflen intoned in a neutral voice watching carefully to gage just how much his father knew of their morning activities, and his reaction to them… enough by the look of him.

"Good morning to you both, I'm not the only one up early apparently." Oropher's mouth quirked slightly as he noted his youngest's still damp hair and remembered the sleeping tunic hanging from the branch outside, then his eyes turned more serious. "I think that Ansa may have breakfast prepared… this time."

Thranduil winced inwardly. Ai, he knew, he always knew. "Adar, I'm sor…" but before he could finish, Doriflen threw an arm around his neck pulling his face in against his chest in a playful hug muffling the rest.

"Come Muindor, we must not keep Ansa waiting." Ai, when would he learn! You don't apologize unless you are certain you are caught… and not even then in some cases. Their father may know something, and may be a bit upset, but to go blurting out an apology right now would only give him information he may not have yet and bring on one of his lectures that much sooner. He flashed his father a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and quickly steered his brother towards the dining area. He loved his brother, even if he was a bit naive at times; good thing that Thranduil had him to watch out for him, he would learn in time.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

_Chapter two_

The mid-morning light shimmered in the fine mist from the falls, dancing in rhythm to the sound of youthful laughter. Doriflen watched from his perch on a large rock near the base of the falls as his younger brother tried to dunk Malril while trying to avoid the same fate at the hands of Sildur. Both boys were friends of Doriflen's and much larger than Thranduil, but that didn't stop him from trying to take them both on. Doriflen waited until both of his friends were completely distracted trying to capture and dunk his feisty younger sibling before leaping down catching both of his friends by the shoulders and pulling them under.

Thranduil cheered in delight as he once again dove into the fray, gleefully joining forces with his adored older brother.

They continued like this until Anor had climbed well into the early afternoon sky warming the grass at the side of the quiet pool. The two brothers were now lying in the grass comfortably relaxing as they dried in the warmth of the bright rays while Malril and Sildur sat near by talking.

Malril laughed and called over to the brothers, "Doriflen, after mid-meal we are meeting Camdil and Finir and a few of their friends. Camdil says his Ada saw white deer running just North of the Brilthor about eight miles east of where it joins the Gelion. We are going to try to track them. It will be fun, you should join us."

"Yes, you must join us. Even though we can not hunt them without one of our elders, tracking white deer is very challenging and they are so beautiful to behold!" Sildur added.

Thranduil swiftly sat up and looked expectantly at his brother. He knew that Doriflen had little interest in tracking and other woodcraft, but he loved it. Learning the ways of the Green elves with their intimate but simple relationship with the woods around them had been one of the few truly bright spots in the years since the loss of their mother. "It does sound like fun Doriflen, and I have never seen the white deer." He grasped Doriflen's shoulder, his eyes silently pleading with him to accept the invitation and to let him come along.

Doriflen frowned, what was the point of just tracking something if you were not going to kill it? He was about to decline the invitation despite the pleading eyes that were gazing down at him when Malril burst out; "He is too young Doriflen, he will not be able to keep up. You should not bring him."

"But I can keep up, I have always kept up in the past…" Thranduil objected only to be stopped by the firm hand his brother placed over his own.

Doriflen had risen up on one elbow and had turned towards Malril, an odd smile playing upon his lips. "My brother and I would be delighted to join you." He smoothly intoned. Whether he wanted to go or not, he would not have anyone tell him what he should or should not do. "I'm sure that you did not intend to try and exclude him from the invitation, did you?" The smile still remained, but the fire within was rapidly burning.

Malril had been about to argue further, but a light cautious touch on his arm from Sildur caused him to pause and look past the smile into the eyes across from him. What he saw stopped him instantly. "Of course not." he stammered, "I… I was just worried that pushing that hard might not be fun for him."

Doriflen's smile turned warm and genuine when he looked over at the delighted grin on his brother's face before turning back to his friends. "Then we will meet you after mid-meal."

Oropher watched from his window high up in the talan as his two sons raced off across the clearing into the trees beyond. It was hard not to think of his dear Elenedis as he watched the flying mane of gold that followed his youngest. He turned away with a rueful smile as he remembered Thranduil's bubbling enthusiasm at the prospect of possibly seeing white deer for the first time. To see the world through the eyes of the young was truly a gift of the Valar… a gift that faded too soon for some in these hard times. He prayed that that would not be the case for his children.

As he descended the steps, his thoughts turned to the counsel meeting he was about to attend. There was much to be done if this land was to be kept safe, and Oropher was determined not to see his newly adopted home overrun and destroyed as Doraith had been.

"Hurry, they went this way!"

Thranduil looked up in frustration as the rest of the group pulled even further ahead. At first it had been easy to keep up while tracking the deer through the forest with frequent stops to check the tracks. As the tracks became fresher and clearer the pace had quickened, but he was still able to keep up though he had to work much harder than the others. Unfortunately, they had reached a large area that was strewn with large boulders from an old land slide. The deer tracks seemed to lead around this large field of rocks and after climbing high up in a tree for a better view of things, sharp elven eyes had spotted tracks in the mud by the river on the far side of the boulder field. At this news, the whole group had taken off at break neck speed in a short cut across the boulders leaping with ease and agility from rock to rock. Thranduil with his shorter legs was not able to make many of the longer leaps, and was frequently forced to either scramble down the steep sides and up again, or to take a longer route. Most of the group had reached the end of the rock slide and he was not even to the halfway mark!

He was scrambling up a particularly high boulder when he faintly heard cries of, "There!... Across the river…" When he got to the top, there was only one figure still visible. Doriflen stood still as the stones around him about hundred yards ahead. Thranduil felt his heart warm at the sight even though it ached in frustration and hurt pride at not being able to keep up… he had waited for him.

He looked up uncomfortably as he finally reached Doriflen expecting to see anger or disappointment in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I really did try to keep up, I didn't mean to slow you down… I have ruined everything, haven't I?"

Doriflen finally turned to look at him, his eyes stormy. "The fools, did they think that I would just run off after them and leave you behind? No _Muindor-nín,_ it is they who have ruined things." He looked down at Thranduil . "What say you, shall we track them now? We may not see white deer, but I may be able to arrange a surprise for them when we catch up." The smile that he turned on his brother was warm, but there was a flintiness to his eyes that made Thranduil wonder briefly just what he had in mind for a surprise. He clapped the younger elf on the back laughing at the serious expression that gazed up at him. "Come, we shall still have fun without them and who knows, maybe you will still get to see the white deer…that noisy pack of fools are just as likely to spook them and herd them back towards us as not." Doriflen's light and relaxed manner was enough to drive any momentary concerns from Thranduil's mind as he fixed his brother with a bright smile.

Thranduil grinned up at Doriflen with eyes that openly spoke of his adoration for him, and nodded back at him… Yes, they would have fun just the two of them, and he didn't care if he never saw the white deer.

The brothers gazed across the wide expanse of turbulent water; the others had crossed here, the signs were clear. It was at least sixty feet to the far shore and though the water slicked rocks jutting up at intervals told no tale of the passing elves, the prints of the mighty deer in the mud of the two tiny islands that broke the expanse at almost twenty foot intervals attested to both the creature's passage, and it's incredible ability to leap surprisingly long distances. The river had been swollen by recent rains and many of the rocks that would normally have been exposed making this an easy crossing were now submerged beneath the swift flowing current.

They had at first questioned whether or not the rest of the group had crossed at this point, or if they had perhaps given up the chase and turned back, but that changed when Thranduil spotted the faint print of an elven boot in the mud at the water's edge. He looked up with a sigh of resignation… it was the rock field all over again.

Doriflen watched warily as the swift water tumbled and roiled around the larger boulders sending silvery spray several feet into the air in places. Anyone falling into that was going to be taken on a rough and wild ride indeed. He would be able to make it across using the larger boulders as the others had, but a couple of them were too far apart for his smaller brother. He would be forced to take a slightly different route in those spots using some of the smaller partially submerged rocks.

Thranduil glanced cautiously up at Doriflen. "I'm pretty sure that I can make it, but do you think that we should even try? … I'm not sure that Adar would want us to."

"Adar is not here, and what he wants does not matter." Doriflen stated coldly. His little brother's constant concern with what their father thought and wanted was annoying at times… he never thought of himself first. "If we cross here, it will save us from having to double back to the other crossing that we used coming out here with the others." He glanced up at the late afternoon sun and frowned. "Even if we were not tracking them, the terrain on the other side is easier to travel through and we can find a more direct path home." He looked at the slightly hurt look in his brother's eyes and his tone softened. "Besides, you said you wanted to practice tracking, so let's track."

Thranduil's stomach knotted slightly in trepidation at the prospect of crossing the river, but he trusted his brother completely. If Doriflen thought that they should cross, then he would do it. Pushing all second thoughts aside, he smiled and nodded in agreement.

At first, things went smoothly. Thranduil was able to make most of the jumps, and Doriflen was ready to grab him if he slipped. He only had to use the partially submerged stones twice and although they were very slippery, he had been able to manage despite the treacherous footing. They were now three quarters of the way across. They had reached a section where the gap between the large boulders was great enough to be a challenge even for the older boy. If they could just get across this section, the rest would be simple since the rocks after that were closely grouped. There were only two small intermediary stones visible between the large bounder that the two brothers stood on and their goal, and one of them was fully submerged a couple of inches below the surface of the water. The water flowed swiftly but smoothly over it's surface giving it the appearance of being incased in crystal. Their goal, the huge boulder just past it was semi shrouded in a fine mist that was thrown up by the churning waters striking a small out cropping at its base.

"Do you wish me to cross by the same path that you must take?" Doriflen queried.

Thranduil shook his head ruefully, "No, there is room for only one on the flooded rock. It will be better if you are on the large one beyond it to help me on the final leap…that mist will make the footing false indeed."

With that decided, Doriflen gathered himself and with a few steps lead was able to leap across. Thranduil followed, leaping first onto the partially exposed stone below and then from there he quickly jumped to the flooded stone. As he landed, he could feel the water instantly pulling at his feet trying to pull them out from under him even though it was only a couple of inches deep. He also thought that he felt a slight vibration in the rock, but assumed that what he felt was merely caused by the turbulence of the water rushing by. Where the water hit his boots, it sprayed up soaking him from the knees down. Unwilling to wait in such a precarious and unpleasant situation, he quickly called out to his brother and leapt for the large boulder he was upon.

As he leapt, he felt the rock underneath him tilt… the vibration that he had felt before, was because the rock was unstable! He landed almost a foot short of his goal, his feet hitting the steep slippery edge and immediately sliding out from under him. As he slid down the slick rock face, and started to slide into the water, he felt Doriflen's strong grasp on one of his wrists. It stopped his decent, but only for a moment.

Doriflen had been watching his brother carefully, and had seen the rock roll as he jumped, and knew that Thranduil would not make it. He threw himself forward over the edge of the boulder desperately grasping for anything. His momentary feeling of relief at catching the slender wrist was quickly replaced by horror as he realized that he was over balanced forward. He would not be able to overcome both the weight of his brother, and the pull of the current that was pulling at Thranduil's legs. In an instant, they were both pulled into the rushing current.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_Chapter Three_

"_Muinduor, _please wake!" Thranduil could not remember how he had escaped the river. For hours he had fought to keep his head above the water while struggling to reach shore. Though a strong swimmer, the icy rushing waters swollen by the spring flood had been too much for him. If it had not been for the presence of his brother pulling him up and finally grasping hold of a passing log floating by and holding them both up, he would never have survived. He vaguely recalled clinging to that log for what had seemed an eternity, and had finally woken in inky blackness under the shadow of a dense tangle of shrubs and woods only a few feet from the water's edge. He had cast his gaze about praying that he would find his brother. When he did, his heart nearly stopped. Doriflen lay unmoving only a couple of feet from him, his eyes closed. At first glance he had thought him dead, but as his eyes gradually adjusted to the faint reflection of starlight off of the black waters he could see the faint rise and fall of his chest. The painful knot in his stomach eased it's hold some as he realized that Doriflen lived, but still concerned that he might be seriously injured, he grasped his shoulder shaking him in a desperate effort to wake him.

"_Daro! _I allowed you to sleep in peace, now leave me be." Doriflen groaned barely opening his eyes and frowning up at the young face hovering above him. He paused and tried to focus more clearly. "What did you want?" he asked in annoyance.

"I was worried about you. Your eyes were shut and I did not know if you were hurt." Thranduil answered softly, both relieved that his brother seemed to be fine, but also a bit wounded at his tone of voce.

Doriflen rose up onto one elbow with a sigh. "I am well, _Muinduor-nin. _I am just exhausted and sore from battling the river most of the night… holding onto you the whole time did not make my task any easier." Noting the hurt tone in his brother's voice he added with a sly smile, "but I suppose it was worth it… Brat." He chuckled back at the grin that his comment garnered from Thranduil, then sobered and inquired. "How do you feel? I was unable to wake you when I first pulled you out of the water."

"Like you, I am tired and very sore." Then he added with a wry smile, "do you think that we missed any of those rocks when we fell into the rapids?"

"Doubtful." Doriflen chuckled back. "They seemed particularly fond of my backside."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Thranduil inquired in a subdued tone, "Do you know where we are?"

"No, do you?" Doriflen snapped back, his frustration and feelings of helplessness at their situation causing his temper to flare. He looked away from his young sibling and out across the river, trying to subdue his anger. He didn't like to feel helpless, he always wanted to be in control. It was not Thranduil's fault that they were in this predicament… Well, perhaps it was; his brother had wanted to go on this stupid trip, not him. He was the one who fell in the river. Doriflen was in this situation because he had tried to save him… but it was Thranduil.

He sighed and looked back at the worry and concern etched on his brother's face and felt the fire in his heart start to fade. "Dawn draws near, when there is more light, we can climb up a tree and get a better look at our surroundings. I should be able to determine approximately where we are then." The look of trust and relief that met his eyes warmed his heart banishing his previous dark thoughts as he sat up and wrapped his arm around the slender shoulders. "It will be fine, do not worry. I will take care of you."

#

"What do you see?" Thranduil gazed up into the branches above him.

"It is as I feared; the river stretches north and south as far as I can see." Doriflen called down, the tension in his voice apparent. "We must have been washed all of the way down past the mouth of the Brilthor and are now on the bank of the Gelion… the west bank." He dropped down landing lightly next to the younger elf. "The forest on this side also extends as far as I can see, and the Ered Luin in the far east beyond Ossiriand looks different." He scowled and looked irritably at the river blocking his path. "We are on the edges of Taur-im-Duinath far south of the Brilthor… perhaps even south of the Duilwen." He suddenly kicked out at a new sapling growing near the rivers edge partially uprooting the delicate growth.

Taur-im-Duinath; the forest between the rivers! A wild tangle of some of the densest forest in Beleriand inhabited by only a handful of dark elves who shunned contact with all outsiders. There would be no help from that quarter. They were alone outside the safety of the boarders of their home with nothing but the clothing on their backs and their hunting knifes. On top of it all, he was uncertain how far they would have to travel before they would find a ford across the river or see a familiar landmark to tell them just how far they were from home. He glanced over at Thranduil who had bent to try and repair the damage to the sapling. "Leave it, we have a long ways to travel." He snapped.

"I am almost finished, it will take but a moment." He said glancing up at Doriflen's angry face as he packed a bit more soil around the base and then stood up. "What do we do now? Will we be able to find our way home?" He was worried and more than a bit frightened, but he idolized Doriflen. He knew that he would think of something even though he was angry right now. Besides, he knew that the anger that he was seeing now was not really directed at him, just the situation that they were in.

Doriflen found his brother's concern for something as unimportant as a single damaged tree incomprehensible, but he let it go for the moment. Perhaps in time he would learn to think of himself first. He looked into the trusting eyes looking up at him and shrugged. "Start walking north, and hope that we can find a safe crossing."

Dusk lay deep upon the forest as the brother's at last found themselves once again within the borders of Ossirand… if only just barely. They had walked all day in a light rain without resting before finding a safe ford across the Gelion about nine miles south of the mouth of the Brilthor. They now knew where they were, because they recognized the Emyngwanûn, the twin hills formation that lay about a days walk east of their home even though they were now viewing it from the opposite side and were much closer to it. It rose up almost a thousand feet above the surrounding forest glimmering a deep green in the fading light. They could either go around it, or try to find the pass that Droiflen had heard spoken of that ran through the middle of it. It would be another long trip no matter which route that they took, but it was at least safe.

After their ordeal in the river the day before, and pushing hard all this day, they were both played out and decided to spend the night by the shore on the east side of the ford. The only food that they had had were a few edible roots and some berries that Thranduil had gathered as they traveled.

The young elf was currently occupied with trying to construct a simple flet in a tall Elm about hundred feet within the edge of the tree line using fallen branches that he had scavenged. It was rudimentary at best, but he still looked forward to being able to rest in the relative security that it would offer. He could see Doriflen down below working to kindle a fire and could not help but smile as he remembered the less than enthusiastic reaction to the meager dinner that Thranduil had provided. He had wrinkled his nose in distaste and praised it as 'a meal worthy of Royalty… if you were a Rabbit.' He had then risen and declared his intent to 'invite some of the local nobility to the feast… and if he was lucky, they would become the feast.'

Thranduil was uncertain how he intended to trap any rabbits since they did not even have any line to set a snare, but he knew that his brother could be very creative. Finally finishing his task, he quickly descended to the forest floor and approached Doriflen, peaking curiously over his shoulder. "Do we have 'Company' yet, or is this just wishful thinking?" He lightly inquired gesturing toward the small fire.

"I have sent out the invitations, but they have not yet replied… rude beasts. I do however expect them by morning." He lightly quipped. "The fire however is not for them, it is for us. Perhaps you enjoy sleeping in damp clothing, but I do not." Doriflen glanced over his shoulder with a light smile.

Thranduil could not deign that the thought of finally getting dry for the first time in over twenty-four hours sounded good, but as he gazed out through the few trees separating them from the ford on the Gelion, he could not help but wonder if perhaps it would be better to live with the discomfort a bit longer. His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Doriflen's smile turned to a scowl. "You worry to much. We have not seen a living soul since this whole disaster began. Save your worries for what Adar will do when we finally arrive home."

At the thought of his father's displeasure Thranduil groaned out loud, all thoughts of the risks of a fire forgotten. "You should have just let me drown in the river!".

Doriflen laughed at the dismayed expression on his younger brother's face. "Though his lectures and stern glare may make you want to jump in a river or off of a cliff, it is not worth it trust me." He reached up grabbing Thranduil's slender wrist. "Come, sit and dry yourself, before we try out that bird's nest that you have built."

The blanket of clouds from earlier in the day had finally dissolved over the past two hours leaving a dazzling star strewn sky behind. The brothers sat by their small fire speaking in quiet tones of everything and nothing.

"Doriflen? Do you think that Adar will find us before we get home?" There was no question in his mind that their father would be searching for them; it was just a question of when they would have to face him. He should never have tried to cross the river when they were following the others, he knew that it was dangerous, and that his father would not approve. It had been a foolish decision.

"Nay, he will have tracked us to the rivers edge, and will be searching along its banks for us… probably with half the hunters of Ossiriand in tow." He turned to his young brother. "Why do you ask?

The younger elf shrugged and looked away. "I just wish that I did not worry him so."

"It is you who worries so. You put far too much store in Adar's feelings and opinions." Doriflen commented in scorn. Seeing the protest in Thraduil's eyes, he smiled lightly and gave him a playful shove. "You are just too serious at times _Muindor-nín. _You need to think of yourself more often."

"You did not think me too serious the other morning when I woke you early to go swimming." He fixed his older brother with an impish grin, "Perhaps I should do it more often."

"Woke me?! You attacked me." Doriflen laughed holding up his hands in mock dismay. "If that is the way your mind will run when left to its own devices, then perhaps I should find something else to occupy it… If you do not behave yourself, I may just take off in the morning before you awake and force you to practice those woodcraft skills that you find so interesting in order to track me and thereby find your way home."

Thranduil's eyes sparkled with mischief as he snickered, "You do not give me much incentive to behave brother; such a pursuit would be fun."

Doriflen shook his head in amazement, he had been jesting. "You are hopeless. Maybe after we get out of this mess I will play rabbit to your fox, but for now we must get some rest." He wrapped his arm around Thrandul's slim shoulders as he rose turning towards the great elm tree with the flet. "Up you go now. You better have built it well, because if it collapses and we fall, I intend to land on top."

"Fear not, it will hold… Of course, as tired as I am right now, I doubt that I will notice if it does not." He quipped as he stifled a large yawn and smiled up at his adored older sibling.

As the brothers retired to the security above, they were unaware of the gimlet eyes across the river watching the slight flicker of light that barely trickled through the trees at the rivers edge.

#

Starlight filtered softly down thru the canopy above, faintly illuminating the peaceful figures nestled within the tiny flet. Doriflen lay curled protectively around the form of his young brother, light chestnut locks mingling with pale gold. First light was still an hour away as he began to stir, awareness tugging insistently at his mind despite the early hour. He sat up trying not to disturb the slumbering figure beside him, and began to climb down from the great elm.

He had fallen asleep last night debating in his mind what route they should take when they left in the morning, and the debate continued uninterrupted as he stood at the base of the tree he had just descended from. He knew that they could circle around the Emyngwanûn cutting either north or south of the hills and come around to their home by either path, a journey that would take about a day and a half. However, if what he had heard about an easy pass thru the center of them was true it would shorten their trip by half a day or more.

They were close enough that he could easily scout for the beginnings of the pass now while Thranduil still slept. As tired as he was from the events of yesterday, it was doubtful that his brother would wake before the sun was well above the horizon even though he was an early riser. With a final glance upward he made his decision and loped easily off in the direction that he hoped would lead to the rumored pass.

#

The great peaks of the Ered Luin were faintly silhouetted in pale tones of mauve as Doriflen smiled and prepared to return, his search for an easy pass successful. On a whim, he decided to disguise his return tracks and left the main path for the return to the flet… If Thranduil thought that it would be fun to track him, he could have his game. Doriflen would return and let his brother track his earlier path and lead them both back together to the pass that he had just discovered.

A clear dawn sky lit his path, though the sun's bright disk had yet to rise above the distant mountains as he neared the great elm that they had sheltered in. He remembered the traps that he had set in hopes of capturing a rabbit or two for their breakfast, and smiled in anticipation as he cut slightly south before reaching the flet.

The traps were a terribly simple affair really, just a moderate sized slab of flat rock propped precariously with a stick while using a bit of braided plant fiber for twine and two other sticks that he had spread a small amount of berry and root mixture upon as a trigger. As the rabbit or other small creature tried to nibble off the bate, the stick would shift collapsing the rock on top of the animal below. He had set up three traps near the river, and was hopeful that he had gotten lucky with at least one of them.

His hopes were dimmed after finding the first trap un-sprung, and the second one sprung but empty. He approached the final trap that had been set closest to the ford with a mixture of hope and cynical resignation. The trap had been triggered, but the way his luck had been going the last few days, it was just as likely that he would find something nasty like a rat in it instead of the hoped for prey. Of course, as hungry as he was feeling right now, he was close to considering roast rat if it came to it. He shook his head in disgust at the thought, deciding that he was not yet to that point. However, he could not contain the chuckle of amusement that escaped him as he pictured in his mind the look on his brother's face if he were to bring him a rat for breakfast.

He crawled under the shrubs that overhung the trap and cautiously lifted the slab of rock, discovering to his delight a large hare beneath it. Grasping his prize he backed out and at the sound of approaching steps from behind, turned while still on his knees to greet his brother while holding up the hare in triumph.

The sight that greeted his eyes froze him in shock and horror for a split second before his world turned black.

Dugbúrz sneered down at the crumpled form beneath him. "I told you there had to be one of these nasty little squeakers straying about here." He bent down and lifted the hare from Doriflen's limp hand, "And look at this, he has even brought us a small treat… Or should I say an 'Appetizer'." He added with an evil laugh. He turned as seven more orcs slunk out of the nearby cover leering at the fallen elf and joining in their leader's grim amusement. "Pick him up; that nasty fire ball will be rising in minutes and we still need to cross back over the river out of this cesspool land and find shelter." With that, another orc slung Doriflen's slender form over it's shoulder and they swiftly retreated across the ford into the tangled darkness of Taur-im-Duinah.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_Chapter Four_

As Anor's first rays caressed the graceful limbs of the great elm, Thranduil stirred and slowly awoke. It was rare for him to sleep so late, or so deeply, but the stress of the last two days had taken their toll. He was slightly disoriented at first and it took a moment for him to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. He turned and looked about expecting to see Doriflen, but was not overly surprised when he did not find him in the flet… it was late after all. Gazing down from above, he saw no sign of him and could hear nothing. Though it seemed odd, he was not immediately alarmed, there were many reasons why his brother might temporarily leave their encampment in the clearing at the base of the tree. He descended rapidly expecting to see him appear at any moment.

Almost a half hour later, Thranduil had finally concluded that Doriflen was no longer in the area. He had examined the clearing thoroughly, and though his skills were not fully developed yet, he could still detect the faint but still fresh traces of Doriflen's passage east towards the twin hills. Since Doriflen had never reentered the clearing; instead skirting south of it to check his traps, here was no sign of his later return. It did not occur to Thranduil to search along the river's edge since he was unaware of the location of the traps, and he had seen no signs of any passage in that direction.

He was at first puzzled and concerned after examining his brother's trail east, he could see that it continued quite some distance. In fact, it appeared to be heading straight towards the area that Doriflen had told him that he hoped to find the pass. He paused for a moment reviewing what he had discovered, his lips thinned in a slight frown.

It suddenly occurred to him that it was quite possible that Doriflen had decided to carry thru on his threat to force Thranduil to track his brother in order to find his way home. He had thought it was only a jest, but he could have been mistaken. Perhaps his brother was serious about turning the return trip into a game. Maybe he had changed his mind and chosen to play this game with him now. A wide smile spread quickly across his face. He could easily imagine his brother laying out a trail for him to follow, and even laying in wait further down the path to try and surprise him as he followed from behind… This could be fun!

The thought of his brother changing his mind, and leaving without a word or any other sign, did not bother Thranduil. Such impulsive behavior and changes in mood were common place with his brother. He had lived his whole life with Doriflen's unpredictability and instabilities. To his young mind there was nothing unusual about it; it was normal; it was just his brother's way. Without further internal debate, he set off in swift pursuit of his unusual quarry.

#

His head hurt. He did not know why, but it hurt.

He wanted to reach up to touch his head, to try and discover the cause of his pain, but he could not.

He forced his sluggish mind to fight its way up thru the dark haze of his nightmare and opened his eyes only to discover that the nightmare was reality. He was lying on the ground, his hands tied tightly behind his back, and his legs bound at the ankles. A single narrow shaft of light pierced the dense canopy above cutting at a low angle thru the surrounding trees… Was it early morning, or was it late afternoon? Several orcs were crowded around him, the sound of their filthy black speech painful to his ears.

"Finally awake are you pretty one?" the orc leering in his face, it's foul breath nearly choking him, had grabbed him by the hair and pulled him a couple of feet up off of the ground. "Did you think that wasting the whole day sleeping when we had time to play and only waking when it is almost time to run again would save you? Think again maggot!" With that, he pulled Doriflen all the way up onto his feet, and called out to the others. "Well boys, it looks like our new toy is finally ready play. You can have a few minutes before we leave, but make sure he is still able to run."

His confusion and pain turned to terror as the orcs started to shove him from one to the other. His heart raced as they punched and clawed at him, and then seemed to stop frozen in an icy grip as others would just grab and paw at him while they laughed and breathed foul promises into his ear of what they would do when they had more time. With his arms and legs still bound, he was unable to protect himself at all, or to even brace himself against their attentions… he was completely helpless.

As the light started to fade, the bonds on his legs were finally cut and a lash was laid across his shoulders for the first time. "Time to go now Maggot, start running!" Spinning away from the pain, he was propelled forward and started running into the darkness away from everything that he had ever known.

The late afternoon sun cast an elongated shadow before the young elf as he jogged along the forest floor. Thranduil was still hours from home, but was no longer searching the terrain for signs of his brother's passing.

#

At first things had gone well; he had easily tracked Doriflen to the mouth of the pass, and part of the way into it. When he had no longer been able to find signs of his passage he had just assumed that he had temporarily lost the trail due to the rocky ground in the higher areas. There was only one way to go, so he knew that he had to have come this way. He also considered that his brother might have intentionally left an easier trail at the beginning of the game in order to make sure that Thranduil set off in the right direction and made it to a safe distance from their home before trying to make things difficult.

When he was still unable to find any trace of him on the other side of the pass, he was crestfallen and assumed that the fault must be with his poor skills. Either Doriflen had taken a slightly different path home that he had just missed, or he was still ahead of him on the same path. Hoping that it was the latter of the two, he increased his pace in a final attempt to catch up.

#

He could not stop; he dared not. If he were to stop he might be forced to think beyond the moment, and to consider the terrible emptiness that the future might hold. Oropher had been searching for his sons for almost two days now and with every minute that passed the dark shadow of their possible loss clutched tighter at his heart.

They had finally been able to track his children to a treacherous ford on the Brilthor about twelve miles east of where it ran into the Gelion. Frighteningly, the trail abruptly ended there. They had searched both sides of the river for several miles in each direction, and had been able to find no trace of his children after that point. The only explanation that made sense at this point was if they had fallen into the river. It was a thought that drove a spike of fear through his heart and forced his strides homeward to quicken.

The waters of the lower Brilthor were always swift and dangerous, and with the recent rains they were even more so. There was no telling how far a person falling in would be washed down stream. If they were forced to start searching near the boarders of Ossiriand, they would need to be armed. Because of this, Oropher and several others had returned to retrieve their weapons.

Oropher had another reason for returning briefly at this point; he hoped to enlist further help. Most Green elves had considerable training when it came to tracking, but there were some where natural talent, instinct and training were combined in a way that made their skills seem almost magical. Henorchal a good friend of his was one of these people. He had been off hunting when Doriflen and Thranduil had first disappeared, but Oropher was hoping that he had returned by now.

He rushed on praying that the small part of his heart that whispered of hope and the eventual rescue of his sons whole and alive, spoke true, and not the dark warnings from a past that had already seen too much loss and pain.

#

Though exhausted from his long ordeal, and disappointed at never having caught up to his brother, Thranduil forced his aching legs to sprint the last starlit mile to the talan. He rushed up the steps calling to his brother as he burst thru the entrance and collided with his father. "_Adar?_" he looked up and stammered in surprise.

He was shocked; he had not expected to find his father at home. He knew his father; he could never sit at home while others searched for his sons. His father had grasped him by the shoulders and was speaking to him, but he was unable to focus on the words. Instead he kept twisting about seeking a glimpse of his missing brother… he had to be here. When he still did not see him, he finally looked up in bewilderment; "Ada, where is Doriflen?"

Oropher's brows knit in confusion. When he had glanced out from high in the talan and seen his youngest running across the clearing, his heart had leapt with joy. He had rushed down to meet him thinking that his nightmare had come to an end at last. He had assumed that Doriflen would be appearing as magically as his brother just had until the child had blurted out his odd question. Where was Doriflen, and why would Thanduil expect to find him at home?

"_Ion-nín_ he is not here. I had thought that he was with you. I have been searching for you both for days now, tell me what has happened? Why would you think that he is here?" Oropher felt his heart draw tight; something was very wrong. "Come, sit down and tell me everything."

He sat down with the boy on a small divan and listened intently. It took Thranduil awhile to tell the full story, and during that time Henorchal arrived and was standing nearby listening with a slight frown on his face as the tale ended, while Ansa hovered and fussed over Thranduil.

It was possible that Thranduil had been right in his assumption that Doriflen had decided to play some game with him on the way home. If so, they could backtrack Thranduil's trail, and find where the path's diverged they could then track Doriflen down from that point. It was even possible that his eldest could come sauntering thru the door at any minute. If that was the case, Oropher would be taking him to task over the matter of leaving his younger brother alone, especially so close to the border. Unfortunately, that explanation just did not feel right to him.

The last time that Thranduil had actually seen his brother, they had been right on the border. That fact alone was very disturbing. There was a reason that the search party had decided to arm itself; since the fall of Dorath, orc activity along the borders of Ossirand had become a regular problem.

Oropher stood reaching for his weapons his mind made up. "Ansa, I need you to take care of Thranduil and to also send a message to the search party on the Brilthor explaining what has happened. If we have not returned with Doriflen by the time that they arrive back here, have them follow our trail and join us in the search. Henorchal and I will leave immediately to try and find Doriflen's trail by backtracking Thranduil's path."

"_Adar,_ I want to come with you, I want to help." The young elf's eyes pleaded with his father to let him come. He felt terrible, what if Doriflen had been injured on the way home, and he had unknowingly passed him by.

Orophir paused; he could see in his son's eyes what he was thinking, but he could not let him come. The child was clearly exhausted and they would be moving fast. Besides, if something serious had befallen his brother, he did not want his young son to see it. "No, you are exhausted, you must stay here. Besides, if you come with us who will greet your brother if he passes us by another path and arrives home first?"

"Ansa will be here." Thranduil stated with confidence.

Oropher shook his head ruefully. Children; sometimes they seemed completely devoid of any common sense, and yet they could always pick out the slightest flaw in logic when it suited their desires. "No, you must remain, and that is final."

Thranduil's shoulders drooped and he could not hide his disappointment as he nodded in acceptance… there was never any point arguing with his father once his mind was made up.

Grasping his son's shoulder, Oropher added. "Fear not, all will be well." And with that he turned to leave, praying that he was not giving false hope.

#

The brilliant light of day could not pierce the murky shadows where the young elf hung from the gnarled limb of a stunted oak. The overhang of a shallow cave forced the top of the old tree to lean outward desperately stretching a few branches up thru the seemingly impenetrable canopy above in an effort to grasp an occasional glimpse of the sun. The thick tangle of surrounding forest crowded within about six yards of the entrance, forming an apparently impenetrable wall that closed off the area, shutting out the light and the rest of the world.

It was private; they could take their time here. The orcs had chosen well.

Doriflen could barely reach the ground with the tips of his boots, and could feel the course ropes digging into the soft flesh of his wrists. He flexed his hands in an effort to relieve the discomfort and restore the circulation to his numb hands, but it just caused him to slowly twist where he dangled. With his legs once again bound together, he could not stop the motion and found it unnerving.

The orcs had driven him throughout the night, taking delight in tripping him and then punishing him for falling and slowing them. When they had finally arrived at their destination, he had been left hanging from the gnarled oak while they went about lighting a fire and devouring a crude meal. He watched with trepidation as they finished and once again focused their attentions on him. His heart started to race as the largest of the orcs approached him, a long jagged knife in his hand.

Dugbúrz reached out grabbing Doriflen by the side of his tunic and giving it a sharp tug and spinning him like a top. After several rotations, he caught the young elf by his long hair jerking him to a stop and pressing up close behind him. "Well my pretty," he sneered into the delicate leaf shaped ear "we went easy on you yesterday, but we have the time to make it up to you now." He could feel the slender body tremble under his touch and chuckled in satisfaction; the young ones were so much fun. He turned Doriflen around and brought up his knife running is lightly down the pale cheek and neck before starting to cut away his leather jerkin and light tunic. "Ready to play?"

#

The glare of the setting sun reflected off the surface of the Gelion in myriad colors that dazzled the eyes. It was a sight of beauty that was lost on the two elves standing on the eastern shore.

"I am sorry _Mellon-nín, _but there can be no doubt; he has been taken." Henorchal hated speaking the words that he new would pierce his friend's heart as surely as the sharpest blade. To make matters worse, it had taken them longer than he would have liked to finally discover the grim truth. "These marks are about a day and a half old and lead back across the ford."

The tightness in Oropher's chest made it difficult to breathe. How could this be happening? The thought of his child in the hands of orcs was unbearable and set a raging fire burning in his heart. He barely suppressed the urge to rush headlong in pursuit, turning instead to Henorchal. "Can you tell how many there are?"

"Eight; perhaps nine." Henorchal turned a sympathetic gaze on his friend, he new what he was thinking. "It will be difficult, but if we are not rash, and are careful to maintain the element of surprise we have a chance of success." He reached out and grasped Oropher's shoulder in a firm commanding grip. "You must harness the fire of your soul no matter what we find. If you do not exercise caution, your son will be the first to pay the price." He sighed and relaxed his hold. "I will mark our trail so the others may follow swiftly; we may need them if this band is joined by another group, but we will press on without delay."

Oropher met Henorchal's eyes and nodded in gratitude. "Thank you _Mellon-nín,_ I will not forget this."

Henorchal inclined his head in return. "Come; let's go get your son."

#

There was no light, no beauty; all was dark horror and pain. The world that he had known was gone, replaced by this living nightmare. His only escape was the blissful oblivion of unconsciousness, and they sought to deign him even that.

"Give him some more." Dugbúrz barked.

Doriflen could feel a burning sensation that flowed from his throat to his stomach dragging him once again towards dreadful reality. It alerted his senses, and caused his heart to race. Every sensation was amplified especially touch… and the incredible pain that went with that. He still hung from the same tree that he had been tied to over two days ago, and the agony in his arms and shoulders now radiated down around his chest wrapping vise like and constricting his breathing. The bleeding welts from numerous floggings overlapped each other almost obscuring the deeply bruised flesh beneath.

He had no hope; it had been the first casualty. He could not escape their cruel games, which tore at his mind as well as his body. He knew nothing but pain, terror and despair. He wanted it to stop, but what he wanted mattered little in this hellish world.

Dugbúrz stepped near pressing his foul face close and inhaling deeply. "I can smell your fear, you weak sniveling coward." He chuckled running his claws down Doriflen's neck and chest eliciting a whimper from the shuddering young elf. "Of course, the fear will sweeten your flesh, so I should not complain." He added with an evil sneer.

Doriflen could not help the tears that welled from his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. He was ashamed and hated himself for being so weak. He did not want to cry. He did not want to scream. Yet he had. Every time they revived him there were new terrors, and more pain. He could not help crying; he could not help screaming.

Everything he had ever believed about himself had been shattered in the face of the power that the orcs now wielded over him. His strength, his cleverness, his superiority, his power… it was nothing, a mere illusion. He would do anything to stop what was happening, and yet nothing that he could do would stop this hell. They had all the power. They controlled him completely. They owned him now… he was nothing.

He watched in rising alarm as he saw Dugbúrz stride to the fire and draw forth a long twisted spike from the flames, its tip glowing red.

The orc grinned in anticipation as he stalked forward with it held before him. "You look like you might be getting cold hanging there runt, want a bit of heat?" With that he ran the glowing tip from Doriflen's shoulder down across his abdomen to his hip.

Doriflen's screams mixed with the harsh laughter from the watching orcs who were now crowding close . He was sobbing for breath, shaking his head, and crying softly 'No' over and over again as Dugbúrz raised the rod up again.

The big orc suddenly grabbed him by the hair hissing in his face. "Seen enough of this life maggot? Shall I dry those weak sniveling tears for you permanently?" He raised the smoldering rod up and very slowly started to move it towards the terrified young elf's eye. "Well, brat. Shall I?"

Doriflen was felt panic explode in his heart… the monster intended to blind him! "No! Please no!... I will do anything please stop…" His hysterical pleading continued, but the Orc just laughed and slowly continued.

He could feel the heat on his cheek, and the smell of burning hair filled his nostrils as a few loose strands shriveled against the fury tip. He screamed and tried to pull away without success when Dugbúrz suddenly dropped the rod and fell back clutching at an arrow protruding from his neck.

The orcs turned in confusion as two more fell instantly to well place shafts, squealing and starting to scatter as two elves leapt from the concealing tangle of the surrounding forest.

Auburn hair streaming behind like a living flame, Oropher released his arrow felling one more orc before drawing his sword and rushing forward.

Henorchal followed close on his heels releasing two arrows at once, and felling two more orcs before drawing his long hunting knife. He engaged the orc closest to him as Oropher charged the last two remaining orcs.

The orc closest to Orophir turned to fight, but the last orc darted off to the side in an effort to escape thru a slight gap near the old oak. He raised his spear as he fled intending to slay the helpless young elf dangling there as he passed by.

Oropher, seeing the danger to Doriflen smashed the pommel of his sword into the face of the orc he was battling, knocking it sprawling as he spun away drawing his hunting knife. Throwing it with deadly accuracy, it pierced the orc thru the base of his skull and dropped him instantly. He then rushed towards Doriflen, his only thought to release his injured child, forgetting the sprawled orc behind him.

Doriflen's relief at seeing his father's appearance and the rapid decimation of the band of orcs, turned to horror as he saw the last orc rise behind Oropher, raising its blade to strike from behind. "_Ada!_"

Hearing the terrified shout, Henorchal spun, leaving his knife buried to the hilt in the heart of the orc he had just vanquished. He drew his bow and nocked an arrow in one swift motion, sending it winging for the treacherous beast. It struck home just as the orc was lunging forward, striking it between the shoulder blades, and piercing its evil heart. As he fell, the blade dropped from the orc's limp claws falling only inches short of its intended victim.

Orophir continued on towards his son, casting a brief glace behind and nodding in gratitude towards his friend. He quickly resheathed his sword and recovering his knife from the fallen orc, severed the bonds his son hung from. He caught him and gently lowered him, his heart twisting at the whimper of painful distress that ensued from even the gentlest of handling.

Doriflen cried out as his father cut him free. It was hard to imagine his arms and shoulders hurting more than they had before, but as his father lowered them to his sides and laid him down pain lanced like molten shards through his whole upper body. His many other injuries screamed in protest against even the tenderest touch. He could see his father's face bent over him and thought he heard his name being called, but everything seemed distorted. His head swam as dark spots began to cloud his vision once more. As consciousness faded a part of his mind quelled in terror wondering if perhaps the rescue he had just witnessed had been no more than a cruel illusion.

"Hold on _Ion-nín_ you are safe." Oropher called softly to the boy in his arms as he held him gently rocking back and forth. He was horrified at the sight of his bleeding and broken child, and felt a sense of dread and rising panic as he watched the pain filled eyes roll back and flutter shut. The Valar could not be so cruel as to let him loose his son after finally finding him again, but the deep scars he still bore from the loss of his wife warned him that life could be brutal indeed.

Henorchal knelt by them, gently examining Doriflen's injuries. "He is only unconscious _mellon-nín." _ He paused and added, "Perhaps it is for the best, the pain would be too great for him otherwise. Stay with him, and I will build a litter so that we can bear him out of this place. We must to get him to a healer."

Oropher nodded in gratitude as he continued to rock the battered body in his arms while barely holding back the tears that shimmered in his eyes. He would hold on to the hope that they could get his child to a healer, and that in time he would be fully healed… he could not bear the thought of any other conclusion.

Despite the difficulties of bearing a litter thru the dense forest and rugged terrain of Taur-im-Duinath, the two elves were able to quickly cover the distance back to the ford. Oropher could not help but ponder the differences between this journey and their original pursuit thru these same woods. The path of destruction left by the orcs was easy to see, but their disorganized travel had made things very difficult. It was not uncommon for two or more of the orcs to leave the path of the main group, later rejoining it. Since Doriflen's soft prints were frequently tramped and obscured by the orcs, it was necessary to explore these divergent paths. Henorchal also had to stop and study the returning tracks to be certain that they were from the original band of orcs, and that additional orcs were not joining the group. Every stop had grated on his nerves increasing his anxiety over what might be happening to his son.

Now that they could race ahead without delay his anxiety was undiminished. Doriflen had yet to recover consciousness, and had developed a fever which caused him to thrash against the bonds that they had been forced to bind him to the litter with. The possibility of poison in addition to the terrible injuries struck deep, filling his heart with a fear that no amount of speed could banish.

As they finished crossing the ford, Henorchal paused. "We may return by the same path that we came, however I would recommend that we cut south of Emyngwanûn instead of taking the direct path thru them. There is a small community in that direction just five miles beyond the hills. Maenesta lives amongst them, and she is a healer of great skill."

The community that Henorchal mentioned was far from Oropher's home, but it was only half a days travel: one third the distance. Though he would have preferred to take Doriflen to the healer whom he had known back when he still lived in Dorath, they did not have the luxury of time. "If you trust her skills, then I will put my faith in your opinion. You have led me well thus far; I do not doubt that my son would already be dead if it were not for you." He nodded in gratitude as he bent to lift his end of the litter. "Hannon-lé ."

"There is no need for thanks my friend," Henorchal nodded back with an understanding smile. "I do not doubt that you would do the same for me if our roles were reversed." Lifting up his end of the litter, they set out once more.

They traveled a short ways back down the trail past the great elm towards the pass. As they prepared to leave this path, Henorchal paused briefly to mark a nearby tree. The simple set of shallow scratches was his unique mark, combined with a hunter's mark of victory. Other searchers finding this as they followed behind would know that the search for the missing boy had been successful, and they could then return home.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

_Chapter Five_

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Pale highlights of gold and pink were just brushing the tips of the distant mountains in the east when Oropher looked up as the slender Elleth quietly entered the outer chamber where he waited with Henorchal. The fatigue of a long night trying to pull the young elf in her care back from his near brush with death showed clearly, but her deep hazel eyes shown with a light that held a message of reassurance for the apprehensive father. "He faces a long recovery, but he will live _Hir-nín._" Maenesta added, "It will be several hours before he awakens however. As you suspected; in addition to his injuries, he had also been poisoned. The foul beasts were using a mixture of horthabell added to their evil liquor to try and rouse him. The combined effect works as a powerful stimulant for short term use, but is ultimately toxic to elves… something I do not doubt that they are quite aware of." The last part was spoken with quiet resignation, she had long ago ceased to wonder about the cruel ingenuity of these evil creations of Morgoth.

Oropher felt the dark weight in his heart lift for the first time in days. Though he had not slept in nearly a week, the relief of knowing that the nightmare was finally ending seemed to chaise away all fatigue. He smiled as he felt his heart sing in a way that it had not done since Elenedis had died. Doriflen would be fine, and Thranduil was safe at home; his world that had nearly shattered for a second time was once again whole. "I can not thank you enough Maenesta, I shall be forever in your debt fair lady." He said with the deepest of gratitude, as he swept his hand up in an elven salute. "_Saés_, if there is anything that I can do to repay you, you must tell me."

Maenesta smiled. Though this one guarded his heart closely, there had been no doubt of his deep love for his child. She had seen that when they had arrived late last night at her home. His was not a heart that loved easily, but once it did, it did so completely despite the tough mask that he showed to the rest of the world. For those with such a cautious heart, loss was so painful that they would not risk opening themselves up to any but the small handful closest to them like their children or spouse. They saw only the potential pain, without ever recognizing the strength that love also brings. She thanked the Valar that she had been able to save not only the injured child brought to her, but the heart that she could see already bore the scars of another great loss. "To see your son leave my care whole once again is all the reward that I seek." She stepped aside allowing Oropher and Henorchal to enter the room where Doriflen now lay.

"_Hannon-lé _Maenesta. How long do you think it will be before he is well enough to return home?" Oropher inquired. Looking down at Doriflen; the abuse that he had suffered was brutally apparent. Oropher was saddened and also angered at the sight… his son should never have had to suffer like this.

"There were a couple of ribs broken and a fracture to his right patella as well as his many other injuries." She considered carefully. "He should not leave for at least a week."

Oropher nodded in understanding. Although at one level he would have liked to have brought Doriflen home right away, his desires were irrelevant when placed against the needs of his son. He glanced over when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

Henorchal smiled softly in understanding. "You will of course want to stay with the boy. If you would like, I can return with a message for your youngest and Ansa. I can also accompany Thranduil back here if you would like. Your sons seem to be very close; perhaps it would be a comfort to Doriflen to have his brother with him.

Oropher's brow knit. Until this very moment, his only concern had been to save his son. He was suddenly struck by the many other difficulties that would have to be faced. He did not doubt that Doriflen's experiences would have more effect than just the physical. Though Thranduil's presence may ease some of these feelings, he was also concerned about the effect seeing Doriflen in this state would have upon his youngest; it could be very traumatic to one of such tender years.

He also had to consider the effects that general knowledge of his son's torment at the hands of the orcs would have on Doriflen. Elves who had been taken captive by Morgoth's servants were frequently looked upon with suspicion by others. There was always the concern that the returned elves had been broken and turned by the enemy. The monsters who had stolen Doriflen had done so for nothing other than their perverse pleasure, but that would not make any difference to some. There would always be rumors and distrust.

Right now, nobody outside of this room knew what had happened. If he could keep it that way, Doriflen had a chance to lead a normal life. Thranduil was so young yet, and the young frequently said things that they should not. To expect him to deal with his brothers trauma, and at the same time keep this secret and act as if nothing of consequence had occurred when dealing with others, was not reasonable.

No. As much as Doriflen might want or need to have his brother with him, for both their sakes he could not allow it. "Henorchal, please say nothing of what has really happened to anyone. Tell Thranduil that Doriflen was injured in a minor rock slide up in the pass through the Emyngwanûn. He will be fine, but it will be a week or more before his injuries allow him to return."

Henorchal understood the reasons for secrecy… if his child were in a similar situation; he would probably do the same. He did not however agree with keeping the two children apart, but it was not his family. It was Orophir's decision to make, not his. "Very well, I will do as you say." In hopes that his friend might yet reconsider his decision, he added. "If you change your mind, send me a message, and I can still bring Thranduil."

"I will keep that in mind Henorchal." He grasped the other's forearm firmly in gratitude. "Thank you once again."

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He was running blindly through pitch darkness. Branches and brambles grabbed and tore at him… or were they really claws? They were so close behind him that he could feel their fetid breath on the back of his neck. He fell and could not move. He could feel their hands gripping his arms, but he could not see them. Why couldn't he see? Suddenly a faint point of ruddy light appeared. Instead of calming him, it just amplified his panic. It rapidly grew to a fury red ember moving towards his eyes as hideous laughter filled his ears. The scream that had been building finally burst forth as he desperately flailed against his unseen attackers.

"_Lasto beth-nín _Doriflen! Listen to me my son, it is not real_. _You must wake."

The voice pulled at his mind gradually dissolving the shadows. His father held his arms, his face faintly illuminated by the single candle on the shelf above the narrow bed. As he drew in a shuddering breath, he realized that his cheeks were wet with tears. He twisted to the side trying to hide his shame. Anger at his own weakness tore through him, but he could not stop the tears. He had thought himself stronger than this, but that and all else he had believed about himself had shattered in the face of reality… he was weak and pathetic.

"_Ion-nín_, _saés_, You must not turn away." Oropher softly intoned seeing the slender shoulders shaking with silent tears, "It is over my son, you are safe… you need not fear anymore… it is all in the past now, let me help you put these evil memories behind you."

Oropher gazed sadly down at his eldest, once so confident and now so fearful and forlorn. Since he had first awakened, Doriflen had been caught in these terrors anytime he slept. His waking moments were not much better, fluctuating between broken soundless tears and morose withdrawal. He did not know what to do in the face of such anguish, he had always held his own so close, but his father's heart bled for his child and he reached out uncertainly wanting to just hold him until the wounded spirit could heal. Gently grasping the young elf's shoulders, Oropher gently but firmly tried to roll him away from the wall he had turned towards, and raise him up.

Doriflen cringed at the touch, and resisted the gentle pull. He did not want anyone to see him, especially his father; the only thing worse than his own weakness was to have that weakness witnessed by another. When he looked in his father's eyes, he could see his own weakness reflected in the pity that they held… pity was only for the weak. Why wouldn't he just go away? Did he take pleasure in seeing him like this? As he remembered his own satisfaction when he had been able to bend others to his will, this seemed somehow painfully reasonable to his shattered soul. His self loathing combined with the anger that always burned within him found focus in the painful and disturbing thought and Doriflen suddenly rolled over lashing out viciously at the elder elf.

Oropher was shocked at the unexpected attack, failing to react to the first few blows despite the fury and force behind them. He grasped Doriflen by the wrists in an attempt to restrain him, careful of the young elf's injuries, but this just seem to infuriate the youth who was able to tear free and strike out even harder. Oropher was finally forced to grapple with the adolescent bringing all of his strength to bear and pinning him down firmly while calling urgently to him to stop and calm down, his voice sharpened by the strain of the struggle.

When Doriflen had first lashed out, it was in rage against the witness of his shame. He could not tolerate anyone having the power of that knowledge. When Oropher was forced to pin him down, the pain from still healing injuries and the restraint magnified his fear and reawakened his feelings and memories of helplessness, causing him to struggle all the more in a state of blind terror and sheer fury. He could hear a voice calling to him, but there was a sharpness and anger to that voice, he would not surrender to that voice, he would not be broken again, and struggled all the harder. The pain of his injuries screamed at him, stealing his breath away until at last darkness tinged the edges of his world and his strength ebbed away replaced once again by a flood of silent tears. His despair darkened with this perceived defeat and humiliation as he now looked up into his fathers piercing stare.

As he felt Doriflen stop struggling, Oropher cautiously released his hold and sat up looking down with disbelief. What had happened? There had been times in the last few days when Doriflen had struck blindly out when first being woken, but Oropher had attributed that to the confused reflex of a mind still only half conscious trying to defend himself from the terror in his dreams. What had just happened could not be explained that way. He did not understand why his son would knowingly lash out at him like that. He could understand Doriflen's anger toward his tormentors, but not towards himself. His feelings were a jumbled mass of confusion, sorrow, shock and also anger. He wanted to be understanding, but he could not ignore this dangerous and violent outburst.

"Explain yourself, my son." Oropher looked down into his son's eyes filled with anger and pain, but instead of a response, Doriflen tried to turn away once again. "No, you will not turn away, not after what you have done. I have been patient, but it is time that you faced what has happened." Oropher had grasped Doriflen by the shoulders and held him firmly preventing him from turning away. During the first day of recovery Oropher had heard Doriflen call out for Thranduil, and had considered if perhaps he should send for the child after all as a comfort for his brother, but after this outburst he was relieved that he had not. He could not allow this violence to pass by, he needed an answer.

Doriflen tensed up in response to the restraint, but did not struggle this time. He heard his father's words but did not comprehend them… What did his father mean by '_not after what you have done'_? Did his father actually blame _Him _for what had happened with the orcs? "They hurt _Me._" he finally choked out trying once more to turn away.

"I know very well what they did to you, I saw it, and it is something that I will never forget, but it is not an excuse." Oropher fixed his son with a hard look; he had to understand that being hurt did not excuse violence and hurting others. "You can not let others control your actions; you must be stronger than that."

His father's words screamed through his mind; he had seen everything, he knew everything, he would never forget. Everything that Doriflen wanted to hide even from himself would always be remembered by another. The thought was intolerable and yet inescapable. He told him that he must be stronger, that he must not let others control his actions, and yet that is exactly what had happened. He was weak. "I tried to be strong, but I could not stop them. There was nothing I could do. You ask the impossible."

"I ask only that you try to control yourself; you can not control what others do, but you must be responsible for your own actions." Oropher reached out cupping his son's bruised cheek "Of course you could not stop what those monsters did to you once they had you under their control, I do not blame you for that, no one could, but they are dead now, they can never harm you again. You must move past this and learn from your mistakes."

"Mistakes?" Doriflen felt confused and angry; if his father truly believed what he had said that there was nothing that he could have done to stop the orcs, then what did he mean by mistakes?

Seeing the confusion in his son's eyes Oropher sighed. He had not intended to discuss it at this point while Doriflen was still so vulnerable and wished that he had chosen his words more carefully, but it was too late now. "I tracked your movements and also spoke with Thranduil. Some of the decisions that you made were foolhardy and put you in harms way. I am very pleased and proud that you saved Thranduil from the river and kept him safe for most of the trip back, but you should never have attempted to cross the river where you did with him, and I do not understand why you left him alone and unprotected in the end. It is only by the grace of the Valar that he was not captured along with you."

Thranduil; he was the one who had gotten hurt, and his father was worried about what might have happened to his brother. The roiling fires always burning within him coiled and twisted through his mind searing his tenuous hold on reason once more. He had not abandoned his brother, as his father seemed to think; he had been returning to him when the orcs had captured him. Why would he think such a thing? He said that he had spoken with Thranduil; had his brother said something to make his father believe such a thing? It did not make sense to him, why would Thranduil say or believe such a thing? In his mind, his actions had been clear and obvious. As for the river crossing; he would never have been there to begin with if it had not been for his brother, didn't his father see that? He had been indulging his brother's wishes, and their father had given them permission to go. What fault could possibly be attributed to him for what happened after that? If he had done what he wished, none of this would ever have happened. In his mind there had been no 'mistakes' other than not putting himself first.

The pain and confusion only grew, Thranduil was the only person he really cared about; he could not accept that his love for his brother could be the cause of what had happened to him even though a twisted and dark voice in the back of his mind whispered that it was so. He shut his eyes against the voice and the anger that flared in his heart against his brother; but when he did, the leering image of his tormentors leapt forth before him… "Seen enough of this life maggot? Shall I dry those weak sniveling tears for you permanently?" Shying back from the nightmarish apparition, he lashed out in terror and pain once more. "No! Please, no… stop…"

Oropher watching the emotions warring within his son's eyes had expected either sullen silence or perhaps an argument but not the explosion that he now faced. As he grappled with Doriflen trying to restrain and calm him, he realized that this was different from his first outburst. This was not directed at him, but instead at some unseen foe, much like when he would waken from his night terrors. "Doriflen stop, you must calm yourself." As the struggles weakened and stopped he looked down into Doriflen's face noting how the eyes darted fearfully about the room as though searching the shadows for hidden dangers. "What do you see… Please speak to me, let me help you."

"Them." Doriflen did not name "them" he could not. They were there every time he slept or closed his eyes. They were dead, but he could not escape them.

"They are just memories my son, shadows of the past. You can not fight them with your body, you must learn to put them away; to banish them from your mind." Oropher understood the pain that memories could cause. For an elf, memories were so real and vibrant that remembering could be much like reliving what had happened. They could not be simply forgotten, and they did not fade with time, but they could be directed and put away; sealed off so that they would not intrude into your every waking moment. It would take time, but he hoped that he could help Doriflen to learn how to do this and to rebuild his life. "Will you let me help and guide you?"

Doriflen looked up at his father, willingly locking eyes with him for the first time since his rescue. It was long since he had felt even the slightest inclination to accept guidance of any sort from him but he was desperate. He could not live with the memories of what had happened to him or of what he felt he had become. His shattered soul grasped onto the hope the elder elf held out to him clinging to it in desperation. "I can not live with this...with_ them. Saés Adar, _please help me. What must I do?"

Oropher felt the knot that had been tightening around his heart for the last few days as he had watched his son's emotional degeneration ease slightly and smiled softly down at the boy; if he would finally open up and let him help him, then there was hope. "I can help you to build a wall in your mind behind which the memories and pain can be sealed away to slowly die. They will still be there, but if you do not feed them with your feelings they will loose their power over you." He placed a reassuring hand on Doriflen's shoulder. "It will not be easy, but once you have finally placed these horrors, the feelings and all that reminds you of them behind that wall, the pain will fade, and you will be whole and strong once more.

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At last! Heart racing with joy Thranduil raced down the last steps of the Talan bolting across the open meadow below. After waiting a whole month for his brother's return he was finally back!

When Henorchal had told him that it would be about ten days before Doriflen and his father would return and that his brother had been injured in a rock slide he had wanted to set out right away to join them and could not believe that he was expected to remain at home waiting. No amount of pleading would convince Henorchal, so after two days he had done the unthinkable; he had defied his Father's instructions and slipped out in the middle of the night to go to Doriflen despite any possible consequences. His heart demanded it. He felt like it was somehow his fault that his brother had been injured; he should have been able to keep up with the others, he should have been able to jump further, and when his brother had been injured on his return home, he should at least have been able to track him, find him and get help for him sooner. Besides, his brother had always been there when he needed him, now Doriflen needed him even if his father did not think so.

Unfortunately, he had not gotten far. Henorchal had caught up to him and brought him back home before he had traveled more than half a day from his home. Later attempts had not faired any better despite his best efforts, and he had no doubt that his father was going to be furious when he heard about them, but at least Doriflen might find them entertaining, and would know that he had at least tried. His feet flew across the grass as he remembered how ten days had turned into thirty before he had finally caught sight of his brother next to his father as they slowly approached home at last.

"Doriflen!" The trees rang with his exuberant greeting as he flung himself forward, hugging him. "I have missed you so much _Muindor-nín_." Thranduil felt his brother stiffen up in his embrace and belatedly remembered that he may still have injuries that could yet be tender. "I'm so very sorry; I have hurt you." he said as he pulled back and looked up into Doriflen's eyes, but what he saw there caused him to pause. Something was wrong. He was not sure what it was but he just seemed... Different. It was confusing.

Doriflen looked down into the adoring upturned face trying to see the brother that he had loved... wanting to see him... and felt the wall behind which his nightmare dwelt waver. Shutting his eyes against the horrors he tried to focus on what his father had taught him; he must lock away those memories and feelings, and whatever could force them to the surface. Gazing down once more he felt his panic starting to rise as the harsh laughter of the orcs rose and a dark voice at the back of his mind told him 'that it would never have happened if it had not been for Thranduil... he had been captured because of him.' He looked away as he tried to put aside the pain and turmoil raging through his mind when he tried to remember his love for his brother, to separate it from what had happened, but he could not. Desperate to silence the voices and hold the horror at bay, he cut deep into his heart and sealed his love for his brother behind the wall before it could crumble and break. When he looked back he could see Thranduil's face but without the feelings it no longer hurt; the wall was strong. With a slight shudder, the decision was made; he would be strong despite the faint cry from a small glimmering light still within him that warned that love locked away would wither and die and take the rest of his heart along with it.

Doriflen smiled at Thranduil as if nothing had happened, masking away all signs of the past. "I'm fine _Muindor-nín_, you need not worry about me."

Thranduil still felt confused but accepted the reassurance...why would he not; this was Doriflen, his brother. The one person whom he could always trust and open his heart too. He smiled back never realizing that the brother he had known was gone.

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EPILOGUE

A single shaft of sunlight set swirling moats of dust glinting unseen before the gaze of the solitary figure, while the youth with eyes too old for his years watched for a moment before gently touching him to draw him from his deep reverie. "_Ada, _Naneth says it is time to go_." _

Thranduil felt his mind drawn back through the swirling mists of time and turned to look down into the somber eyes of his son. "Yes Legolas, you are right, it is time." He started to walk towards the door of the study but paused grasping his son by the shoulder and turning him to look at him. "He was not always this way you know, he was a good brother to me once. I do not know why but somehow the brother I knew was lost and replaced by a monster and I never fully realized it before he hurt you." His eyes welled up with unshed tears. "I do not understand what happened to him, but you must believe that I would never have let him near you if I had known what he had become capable of."

Legolas smiled and turned trusting eyes upon his father. "It was not your fault _Ada_, I know that you never wanted any of this to happen." his eyes turned thoughtful. "He understands how to use our love against us, but he feels no love himself. He thinks that makes him strong, but it is his weakness; his heart is dead."

Thranduil swept Legolas into a hug as he felt his heart swell with love. "You show great insight _Ion-nín_, I am so proud of you." He kissed the boy gently on the top of his golden head. "You are right; our love is our strength, not the weakness that he thinks. Come, let us go and show him the strength that can be found in love and compassion." He released his son from the embrace and took a deep breath as he turned from the memories of the past, and walked out to face the future. Though Doriflen may have betrayed him completely, showing that any love he may ever have had for Thranduil was now beyond recall; there would always be a small part of his heart that would mourn the loss of the brother that he had once been and that Thranduil could not help still loving. It was time to go, it was time to pass judgment on his brother.

The End.


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